


Fabulous

by weakinteraction



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Canon-typical levels of poor decision-making, Crossdressing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: Eric is determined to see Adam again. Luckily (?) he has people around to help.[Tagged Underage as the chars are in the 16/possibly 17 age range; this seems to be over the age of consent within the setting, but is underage by AO3 standards.]





	Fabulous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janie_tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/gifts).



"No," Otis said.

"Look, you have to help me do this. You're my friend."

"No, I don't," Otis said. "The right thing for me to do as your friend is definitely to talk you out of this insane idea."

"I'm going to do it anyway," Eric said. "With or without you. And we know how well that worked out last time."

"Don't make this about that," Otis said. "Please," he added, a slight plaintive note in his voice.

"OK, well then let's make it about your other thing," Eric said. "You help people with their sex lives, right? Well, this is a problem with my sex life! It's just a different kind of problem ..."

Maeve sauntered over, apparently attracted by the mention of her and Otis's little venture. "I'm in."

"You're in?"

"Whatever this is you two idiots are planning, I'm in."

"I didn't ask you to be in," Eric said. "I'm not sure I _want_ you to be in."

Maeve gave him her best death glare. "Whatever it is, you want it to ... y'know, actually work, don't you?"

"She has a point," Otis said. "This sort of thing is more her forte than ours."

"OK, you're in," Eric said reluctantly. "Provisionally."

"So, what _is_ the problem with your sex life?" Maeve asked.

"His boyfriend's been sent away to military school," Otis said.

"He's not my boyfriend," Eric said to Maeve. "It's more of a hooked-up-a-couple-of-times-before-being-cruelly-separated-by-fate-before-we-could-find-out-if-it-was-anything-more thing."

"Wait, did you say mi--" Maeve's eyes went wide. "You fucked Adam?"

"Keep your voice down!" Eric said. "But yes, yes I did, and it was _amazing_."

"Oh, well, then I'm _definitely_ in," Maeve said. "Anything that would piss Mr Groff off gets my full support."

"Is that really a good idea?" Otis asked. "I mean, you're only still here because your appeal is pending ..."

But Maeve ignored him; she was looking at Eric quizzically. "Amazing?"

"A-ma-zing," Eric confirmed in his best Craig Revel-Horwood voice.

* * *

The whole thing had taken a considerable amount of arranging. Maeve had, to Eric's mixed gratitude and annoyance, turned out to be very good at organising everything. But finally, they were on their way: sitting in silence on the long-distance bus, all trying to ignore the smell that permeated the entire cabin, being reinforced in great waves whenever anyone stumbled past them to the tiny toilet.

Otis was constantly fidgeting nervously, but seemed to feel that any discussion of what they were planning to do that might alleviate his tension would be some sort of terrible breach of operational security. Eric kept glancing behind to the seat on which Maeve sat curled up with her headphones in, reading _The Brothers Karamazov_. So he was left to brood by himself. Was he about to make a terrible mistake, or have the best night of his life bar none? Or maybe both? Both seemed likely.

* * *

They had made it onto the grounds -- past a properly scary guard post -- with a combination of the fatigues Maeve had provided and sheer bravado, again almost all provided by Maeve. Now they were sneaking around the back of the imposing building trying to work out the best way in.

As they got further towards the back, the sounds of what was evidently a party grew louder and louder.

"Do you think they've got alcohol?" Eric said.

"Of course," Otis said. "I mean, not officially--"

"Why are you asking?" Maeve said.

"No reason," Eric said. He wasn't sure whether things would go more smoothly with or without it.

Maeve beckoned them over to a half-open window through which the sounds of the party were loudest. Eric and Otis ran over to her at a crouch and then put their heads up as far as they dared to see what was going on.

The room was full of boys their age. Each and every one of them was dressed as a woman. There were all sorts of different outfits, from film noir femme fatales to battleaxe grannies.

"What the fuck did we just see?" Eric said when they ducked back down again.

"Ah, yes, no, I have heard about this," Otis said, in his knowledgeable sexpert voice.

"So, what, is everyone at military school super queer or something? Should I be signing myself up?"

"It's all performative," Otis said airily. "It's actually a _reinforcement_ of the norms by a collective transgression of them."

"If everybody's doing it for bantz, then everybody tacitly agrees that it _is_ just bantz, and no one would ever do it seriously," Maeve said.

"You could put it like that, I suppose," Otis said.

"I bet some of them _are_ super queer, though," Eric said. "I mean, did you see the guy with the dress slit up to here?" He mimed on his own thigh.

"I thought you were here for Adam," Maeve said.

"I am, I am!" Eric said. "Probably. Anyway, the point is we're going to stick out a mile in these _disguises_."

"Don't look at me!" Maeve said. "This is premium knock-off Army surplus gear. I had no way of knowing they'd be doing ... this."

"Well, it's far too late to go back and raid my room for the right sort of stuff," Eric said. "We're going to have to brazen it out."

"I saw food," Maeve said. "Hot food. The catering people must still be around."

"Unless you've got chef outfits hidden away somewhere--" Otis began.

"High stress profession, catering," Maeve said. "They're bound to be popping out for fag breaks all the time. We find the back door to the kitchen and wait."

* * *

One offer of a light later, they were inside, trying to find their way through what turned out to be a warren of passageways to the party. The building had clearly been converted from the family home of some posh gits and still had the layout to match, with parallel sets of corridors and stairs for the owners and their servants. They were all painted the same institutional magnolia now, but you could still kind of tell.

As they got closer, they grew more cautious, diving into dark, empty rooms before checking whether the coast was clear.

They were in a small room that seemed to be used for teaching geography given the preponderance of maps on the walls when it happened -- Eric heard Adam's voice.

"Back in a sec, I'm just going for a slash."

Hardly the most romantic thing anyone had ever said, but for Eric it was enough. Ignoring Otis and Maeve urging caution, he stepped out into the corridor.

What he saw completely blew him away. Adam had by far the best outfit of anyone Eric had seen here so far, a black dress that cut off diagonally below the knees. Whatever he'd done to his chest was far more subtle than the balloons down the top favoured by many of the others, and his make-up was fantastic.

"Wow," Eric said.

Adam did what, in other circumstances, would have been the most hilarious doubletake Eric had ever seen. He pulled Eric aside by the arm, and hissed, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" Eric retorted.

"I got sent here by my dad?" Adam said. "Because he's a complete arsehole."

"Right," Eric said. "But see, that's why I came."

"To tell me that my dad's an arsehole? Well aware of that already, thanks."

"No, because ... I don't know, I thought you might need-- want-- like-- Oh, I don't fucking know! I wanted to see you, is that all right?"

"Keep your voice down!" Adam said, pulling Eric by the arm he was still holding into the room he had just come from. With the door closed, he hissed, "I mean-- oh fuck--"

With the lights still off, and before Eric had a chance to explain that this was where he had just been hiding with Otis and Maeve, Adam was pulling him in to a deep kiss. It was every bit as good as he remembered, with an extra level of intensity from the weeks of longing that he was instantly convinced had been entirely mutual.

It was when Adam started to put his hand underneath Eric's vest that he decided he really had to say something. "I, er, didn't come alone."

Maeve clicked the light on. "Surprise," she said, then made a sarcastic party popper noise.

"Hi," Otis said. "And sorry."

Adam coughed. "Otis, Cockbiter," he said with a brusque nod.

"Don't call her that," Eric said. He looked down at the floor, unwilling to meet anyone else's eyes as he added, "She's actually been really helpful."

"I can speak for myself," Maeve said. "Don't call me that," she said, sullen that her thunder had been stolen.

"I think maybe we should leave them to it," Otis said to Maeve in a stage whisper.

Maeve cocked an eyebrow at him. "This is the great wisdom-beyond-your-years insight that everyone pays you for?"

Eric waved his hand at them in a shooing gesture, and they departed.

"Fucking hell," Adam said. "I-- Thanks for coming, I guess."

"'Thanks for coming'?" Eric said. Even as he did, he thought to himself: what the fuck, you did not come all this way to have your first row.

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe it would work better if you showed me," Eric said.

Adam leaned in again to kiss him, and this time, without the awkwardness of the others being there, was quickly removing Eric's top. Eric started to pull at Adam's dress -- "Amazing costume, by the way," he said as he unzipped it -- until pretty soon they were standing facing each other, completely naked. Eric was very conscious of their cocks, the way they were almost touching as they stuck out from their bodies.

"Does this room have a lock?" Eric asked.

Adam went over to the door. "Needs a key," he said. "Only the teachers have them."

"Doesn't matter," Eric said. They had hardly worried about that sort of thing in the music store room. He hoped that Otis and Maeve were somewhere close enough to be on guard and yet far enough away that they would be unable to hear anything. "Your outfit is ... amazing, by the way."

"Well, you know, I had ... good inspiration."

Eric snapped his fingers as he realised. "Linda Fiorentino in _The Last Seduction_!"

Adam just stared at him. It was exactly the same way Adam _used_ to look at him, before, when he would have been working out how best to torment him. But Eric didn't care; those memories were transformed now by what had passed between them. "Who's that?" Adam said eventually.

"I mean, it's not a look I could pull off, for many reasons--" Eric went on.

"I was talking about _you_ , you idiot."

"Ohhh," Eric said, but then he stopped talking when he felt Adam's hand on his cock, and for a moment Eric thought that he was going to come instantly, which would just have been embarrassing. But the moment passed, and he put his own hand out to stroke Adam's; at the same time, they leaned together once more to kiss, and Eric soon found that Adam was stroking him, faster and faster as his kissing became increasingly sloppy and out of control. Eric tried to reciprocate but found it impossible to keep up, feeling as though he was jerking Adam in fits and starts that weren't going to get anywhere.

"Fuck," Adam said. "You're so hard. I've been thinking about this for weeks."

Eric bit back the urge to suggest that that was the sort of thing he should have been saying earlier, and said, "Me too. And you too. I mean, you're hard too."

"I know I'm hard," Adam said.

"And so do I, because I can feel it in my hand," Eric said. "You know what? Let's go back to not talking."

"Good idea," Adam said. Almost instantly, he sank to his knees and took Eric in his mouth. He had gone down on Eric that very first time, and it had felt so incredibly _right_ that Eric had found it hard to believe that their years of mutual antagonism had ever happened.

Eric reached out to steady himself as the sensation of Adam's wet mouth around him began to build, and half-stumbled into the desk behind him. Adam grabbed hold of his hips and readjusted his position before starting to blow him with even greater gusto.

"Don't make me come yet," Eric said, surprising himself with the words.

Adam looked up, just a little disappointed, then broke off with a nod.

"I want you to--" Eric stopped, suddenly, and quite ridiculously given the circumstances, shy. In his fantasies about this moment, the line always came out smoothly. "I want to be fucked," he said. "I brought lube!" he added quickly. "It's in the pocket of the jacket ..."

Adam nodded again. He stood up and kissed Eric once more -- the sweaty taste of his own cock on Adam's lips was a huge turn-on -- before turning him round, firmly but gently, until he was bent over the desk.

He heard Adam scrabbling around for a few moments, then the slightly clinical noises of tubes being opened and squeezed. Then an altogether sexier sort of noise as Adam stroked himself with it.

A few moments later, Adam was back next to him, his hand -- still covered in lube -- pressed against Eric. He inserted a couple of fingers -- it felt incredible, completely different to when Eric did it to himself, just because of the sheer unpredictability -- and smeared the remaining lube inside him.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as Adam removed his fingers and rubbed the tip of his cock against his arsehole.

And then, Adam was inside him -- hard and big and _thick_ in an intensely satisfying way. Eric was expecting the same sort of frenzy as before, but Adam was gentle as he slid slowly in and out.

Whether it was for Eric's benefit entirely or also because Adam didn't want to come too soon, Eric wasn't entirely sure, but the sensation was unbelievably good. In this moment, all the lengths he had gone to to be here were entirely worth it, the absurdity of the situation irrelevant.

Eric lost track of time, but at some point Adam began to build up a more intense rhythm, and also reached around to grab Eric's cock, starting to stroke it just as he had done earlier.

Eric knew it wouldn't be long now for either of them. Sure enough, soon he was coming -- all over the desk -- as Adam came inside him.

They stayed there for another timeless moment, basking in the afterglow. Then Adam pulled away. "I'd better go. They might start to notice I've been gone for a while."

"Wait," Eric said, turning back round. "What about--"

"We get a few weekends a term to go home. We can meet up then. If you want. If you can find somewhere."

Eric was in fact already plotting how to persuade Otis and/or his mum to let them go to his house. "I don't have your number," he said. "Actually, come to think of it all this would have been a _lot_ easier if I had."

Adam took a scrap of paper and a pen and scribbled it down. "Don't send me anything ... y'know," he said quickly. "The fuckers here read everything."

"What, the teachers? Are they teachers? Staff? Officers?"

"I mean _those_ fuckers," Adam said, nodding in the direction of where the party was still going on.

"Well, we'll just have to save it for in person, then," Eric said.

Adam nodded. "I really do have to go," he said. He gave Eric one final kiss, then left.

"Bye then," Eric said, raising a hand and waving slightly at the closed door. In a moment, he would have to walk through it, make sure Otis and Maeve hadn't got into too much trouble in the mean time, and start making their escape. And who knew when he would see Adam again? But at least he had his number now, and for just that moment, everything was absolutely fine.


End file.
